True Love's Kiss and A Chipped Cup

She handed him one of the mugs to dry.

It slipped through his fingers when she let go.

It landed on the floor, cracking.

Belle bent to pick it up with a gasp. "I'm sorry, I thought you had it-."

She looked up at him, bringing the mug into the light. "It's – It is chipped," she stuttered and he found himself staring at Belle the night she had broken the tea cup. The first night with the golden dress – he blinked, and she was crouching there in jeans, bringing the chip up along with the mug this time. "We can glue it-," she invented, looking at the mess in distress, "I'm sure you have glue here somewhere," she muttered, moving away, maneuvering around him.

One blink she was in the ball gown, the next she was back in her blue button up shirt. How could she not remember? How could she not remember?

He couldn't stand it anymore – her forgetfulness, the inability to recognize him, not being able to remember his name –

He followed her, stopping her abruptly, reaching an arm between her forward progress and placing it against the wall. The other he placed on the other side of her, fingertips brushing the walls. She looked around to find herself cornered. She looked at him from within his cage. Frightened, anxious –

"Mr. Gold?" she breathed.

Mr. Gold, he scorned. "What is my name?" he demanded, staring into her face, willing her to remember.

"I – I don't know – you've never told me your name," she stuttered.

His eyes bored into hers. "What is my name Belle?"

She seemed at a loss for words, her mouth moving in inexplicable trembles, "It's – It's –"

He captured her mouth with his, using up every inch of his bravery, his pent up frustration spilling out, longing with every fiber of his being for her to remember. He breathed in her life, her vivid light, tasting every bit as sweet and kind as she had in the past. Sweeter.

He hesitated, waited for her to pull away, to cry out in protest, but instead she looped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his, continuing, moving with him. She wasn't running, she wasn't hiding, one of her hands curling in his hair, the other hand still full of mug. With a shuddering sigh, he took control once more, moving closer, his hands flat on the wall, ardently perusing her until she broke away.

She took a deep, trembling breath, looking down at her feet, gasping. He searched for her response, watching the wheels turning in her head until she looked up at him, her face full of understanding, of recognition, of realization.

"I know," she peered at him, her gaze piercing his soul, "I remember your name."

He kissed her again, conflict burning through him. She wrapped her arms around his neck once more, pulling him closer so that he had to push against the wall to keep from crushing her. She was too far away- one of his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her into him. She inhaled sharply, deepened the kiss.

His brain finally caught up with his body, forgotten somewhere back in the crescendo of the crashing cup. He pushed away from her frantically, banging against the counter when he couldn't go any further.

"No," she whispered, stepping forward, following him.

"How-," he stammered, swallowing, "How-?"

"Everything- I remember everything." She smiled, pushing his hair back from his face, "True love's kiss will break any curse, Rumpelstiltskin."

His name on the tip of her tongue. He drew her in and kissed her again, pulling her up onto her tip toes.

A/N: Another exert from my story- um! I did substitute the tea cup for the mug...

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